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Aug 2015
She's sick to her stomach of your ******* promises,
Of the nights you promised to bring happiness and brought pain.
She swallowed you up in the pit of her being
And you Gargled inside her making her spit and splutter,
She's in the gutter.
And while she's down you pump your poison through her veins with nothing to gain, numbing her brain.
Yet again, you mask the pain.
Natasha
Written by
Natasha  Liverpool
(Liverpool)   
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